


Now or Never

by MysticMismagius



Category: Sixty Seconds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-16 20:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7283809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticMismagius/pseuds/MysticMismagius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you've never heard of the game "Sixty Seconds", it depicts a family of four whose town is obliterated in a nuclear attack. True to the title, you have sixty seconds to gather as much supplies and family members as you can in the house and reach your fallout shelter. If you don't make it, it's an immediate game over. Once you and whichever family members you brought with you are in the fallout shelter, you must survive from there.</p><p>This work has elements not set in the canon of the game, like the last names of the characters (despite which, all Spider Man related names will only be references, not the same character) and other things that will appear throughout the work. If this triggers you, leave now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Panic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jay from the Kubz Scouts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jay+from+the+Kubz+Scouts).



> Glad to see you! This isn't my first fan-fiction run, but it is my first work I'm posting on AO3. I hope you enjoy!  
> This project is inspired by Jay from the Kubz Scouts' Sixty Seconds Playlist, which you can find right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bbqzJoreds&list=PL4vF-TxbCczLp3wa962XmQg4rTH3UGMTG

Dear Diary,  
I started my Saturday relatively normally: the whole family had a big breakfast, then I went into my room with my little brother. I lost myself in the notes as I played a song I’ve known for years. Seeing the smile on Timmy’s face as he listened warmed my heart, but it was all cut short by a sudden note so high-pitched and ungodly that my saxophone couldn’t possibly have made it. I ran to consult Mom and Dad, who were listening to something on the radio.

“Get to the nearest bomb shelter immediately. There is approximately one minute before the explosion.”

I wasted no time. Still holding my saxophone and Timmy’s hand, I rushed towards the hatch leading to the fallout shelter in our house.

"Explosion!?” Timmy asked in a panicked voice. “What explosion?”

“It doesn’t matter! We have to just go, there’s no time!” I shouted, practically shoving him and the instrument into the hatch once we got there. I let out a sigh of relief, my little brother was out of harm’s way. 

I turned back to see what my parents were doing. They were all scrambling around, searching for supplies. Knowing it was now or never, I joined them, grabbing everything I could see us using in the future. I picked up a first-aid kit, a few cans of soup, a bottle of water, a map, and that girl scout guidebook I left laying around in my room and quickly tossed them down the hatch. The last thing I grabbed before jumping down the hatch with my parents was the axe my parents hid under their bed.

And that’s how the four of us got to this disgusting bunker, and I found you lying on a crate in the center of the room. While Timmy’s giving me a look that could kill and Mom and Dad are too busy yelling at each other to respond, you’ll have to do as far as companionship goes. Hopefully they can stop screaming soon enough.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

P.S: I think I’ll call you Peter. That’s a nice name. Peter Parker. Reminds me of those comic books Timmy used to rush out to buy on Sundays… Oh. _Crap._


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short one, but that'll be OK. It'll get better.

Dear Peter,  
I just made things worse, didn’t I? I tried to play my saxophone to calm things down, but as soon as I started playing, Timmy flinched, being reminded of the last normal thing he’d heard, ~~the last normal thing he might ever~~ _**NO.**_ Anyway, Mom and Dad started yelling at me after that, naturally I defended myself, and now there’s more screaming. Great.

I need to do something to pass the time while, so I might as well take inventory. As far as supplies go, we have:

* 1 map
  

* 1 First Aid Kit
  

* 1 portable radio
  

* 1 axe
  

* 1 rifle
  

* 1 flashlight
  

* 1 deck of playing cards (Thank God, at least we have one luxury item)
  

* 6 spare bullets
  

* My girl scout guidebook
  

* 5 cans of soup
  

* 7 water bottles
  


Huh. We might actually last here until the war is over. If only we could stop yelling at each other and get coordinated.

  
Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker


	3. Foresight is 20-20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the phone that may or may not start one of the game's good endings rings.

Dear Peter,

In order to calm my nerves, I started playing solitaire with the deck of cards that someone brought here. Nobody else was using them and I can’t play music anymore, so why not? While I was playing, we all heard a phone ringing from somewhere outside. Phones? In this wasteland? I could hardly believe it. We all discussed the phone call, whether we should answer it, and if we do, who should go. Well, that last one’s easy.

“If anyone’s going to answer that, I will,” I declared.

My parents gave each other a look.

“Um… are you going to be OK out there, Mary Jane?” Timmy asked with a fearful expression. “I could go instead…”

I wouldn’t let him risk himself like that. “Calm down, I’m not going to die out there. I might get sick, but it won’t be that bad.” Even if it was, I thought: _Better me than anyone else,_ and went to answer that phone.

I could clearly hear a gasp of relief from the caller, a young woman from the sound of it. “Thank God!”

“Finally got an answer?” A young man from the other side of the line asked. “Hello! We’re survivors from the town of Hill Valley. My sister and I have been calling for help for hours. What’s your name?”

Hill Valley? That wasn’t too far from here! It gave me hope that we could meet other survivors, specifically ones that hadn’t turned to thievery to survive. “I’m Mary Jane, from Raccoon City. What about you?”  
“My name is--” 

“Hello? Hello!?” No answer. Dammit, the connection was cut. With a sigh, I re-entered the bunker with a feeling of disappointment.

Mom asked “Who was it?” when I came back, but I couldn’t answer. As soon as I returned, I… vomited in a corner of the room. _Ugh._ I can’t say I didn’t see that coming, but as I mentioned earlier, it’s better that I got sick than anyone else.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. I hope you enjoyed this little ride I've started. I have about ten chapters written out, but for right now I'm only posting three.


	4. Not Alone

Dear Peter,

Timmy kept looking over my shoulder while I was writing last night. When I brought it to his attention that I knew, he just asked if he could read what I was writing. Since there’s nothing in here that he doesn’t already know, I let him read for a bit. I didn’t have the strength to say “no”, and after missing his comic the other day, he’s probably itching for something to read.

I still don’t regret going to answer that phone, but I’ve been paying for it ever since I got back. The puddle of vomit in the corner of the room has grown to an alarming size since yesterday afternoon, and nobody goes near that area of the room anymore. This should make me wish that I hadn’t gone, but instead I just feel more glad that nobody else has to be this sick every time I’m forced to empty my insides of stuff I didn't know I still had.

When I finally got a break from all the vomiting, I noticed a spider crawling along a wall of our shelter, near the corner. It wasn’t just an average house spider either- it was abnormally large, like a tarantula. I was about to find something and smash it when I saw it wrapping a huge and oddly green-looking roach in its web. Uuugh, that roach was disgusting! The spider gained my respect for killing off the real enemy, so as far as I’m concerned there’s a ceasefire for the time being. I won’t make any promises for when Mom finds out, though. Last time she saw a spider doing something like that, she screamed bloody murder. Then we had to stop her from burning the house down with the lighter trying to kill that thing. Thinking about it now, we might as well have let her. It ended up burned to the ground a few days after that incident, anyway.

Wait, did I just write that? My God, that was dark. Let's hope this doesn't become a habit.

In any case, thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

P.S: My stomach has been killing me lately. It’s been several days since any of us put anything into our bodies, and it’s showing. It took every bit of my will not to take one of those soup cans we brought and scarf the whole thing down myself. And it would be a waste if I did, I wouldn’t be able to keep it in for longer than half an hour anyway...


	5. End of Our Rope

Dear Peter,

When we first entered the shelter, nobody took anything for themselves. It was as if we all made a silent vow to hold out as long as we could before taking from our precious stock of supplies. But now, I can see the desperation in the eyes of my family, and I feel it myself. When I look, I can see their resolve to keep that promise fad-----------------------------------------------

I don’t how or why I passed out like that, but when I woke up I thought that the stock would be empty, and nothing would be left for me. Instead, I was surprised to wake up to see Mom kneeling over me with an offering. 

“Here, I saved you some,” she said. I practically inhaled the food and water, but hesitated when I saw the bottle of pills Mom was about to give me. Sure, I would have liked to cure this damn illness, but I didn’t want to use up the medicine so soon, especially since it’ll be a good long while before we have a chance of getting another one.

“Is she going to be OK?” I heard from some distance away. Hearing my brother’s voice ask that was what convinced me to take the pills. If I was going to hurt him by staying this way, I had to get rid of this illness as soon as possible. I still think it’s a bit of a waste to use it so soon, though, but it’s too late to turn back now.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker


	6. Declaration of War!

Dear Peter,

I woke up this morning to hear Mom screaming. Fearing that she had been attacked in the night, I rose immediately and took a fighting stance, but… there wasn't a single unwelcome face. Dad, Timmy and I tried to figure out what was wrong with Mom, but she just kept screaming and pointing. We turned our heads in the direction she was pointing to find a wall that was covered in spiders. The sight of it almost made me scream, but I couldn’t be weak, not here and not now. I thought about taking the girl scout guidebook from the floor, but it quickly was surrounded by spiders. I shook my head and started attacking the spiders I had been so foolish to leave alone until now with my bare hands and feet. Dad noticed what I was planning and joined me, grabbing the nearest thing he could find to crush the spiders with. Together, we stomped on, whacked, and otherwise attacked the colony of spiders until most of them were gone and Mom stopped screaming. 

As soon as that was over, I sat down on the floor, too exhausted to bother picking up the knocked over stools. That was… tense. I think I may have been bitten by one of those spiders back there, since I felt a prick on my hand while I was attacking those spiders, but I’m not bleeding anywhere, so I should be fine. Either way, those damned spiders deserved every death they got, those dummies.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever played the game before, you know where this is heading. If you haven't, just wait and see...


	7. So Many Questions

Dear Peter,

I was the first to wake up this morning, and I noticed rather quickly that something was wrong. A nasty-looking red vein was prominent along my right arm, and the skin around it was purple. How did this happen!? And why!? What was going on!? I spent what felt like hours silently panicking. I couldn’t fall ill, not again, not so soon. I felt like a waste, being so needy at the expense of my family. After I finished melting down on the inside, I noticed Mom, Dad, and Timmy were starting to wake up. I rushed to hide my… affliction under the sleeve of my dress, but it was way too short. Along with whatever happened to me yesterday, I’ll also have to deal with Mom and Dad… Oh boy.

I spent all day trying to sure that neither Mom nor Dad saw the vein on my arm. It was nerve-wracking, trying to keep this condition hidden, especially since I had no idea how I was going to deal with it now that I’d already used the medicine from the first aid kit (definitely a waste, if I hadn’t taken it, I’d be able to use it now). However, my resolve stayed strong, and I was able to make Mom and Dad believe that I was totally OK. 

When Mom and Dad said they were going to rest for the night, I was perfectly willing to join them. The mental stress of trying to convince Mom and Dad that there wasn’t anything wrong while knowing full well there definitely was took its toll on me. However, just as I started falling asleep, I was nudged back to consciousness. I knew this time that it was no invasion: something-- or, more likely; someone-- was trying to keep me awake. To my surprise, and then regret, it was Timmy! I groaned: while I was trying so hard to keep my problems away from Mom and Dad, I made them obvious to Timmy.

Timmy grabbed my arm, revealing the vein and damaged skin. The marks looked quite a bit bigger than I remembered from the morning, but that wasn’t the point. “What is this?”

“I don’t know. Last night it wasn’t there and in the morning it was here.”

“It looks bad. Where do you think it might have come from?”

“Hmm… Maybe from yesterday morning?”

“When you were dealing with the spiders? That sounds really dangerous! You should tell Mom and Dad!”

“No, no, I can’t do that! I can’t have them wasting their energy fussing over me. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. I don’t know what you’re so worried about, just ask Mom and Dad for help.”

“That will never work! I’ve already wasted our first aid kit as is! I can’t ask for more at this rate! And even if I could, what the hell would they be able to do?”

Timmy sighed and shook his head. “You have no faith in people, Mary Jane…”

“And you seem to have forgotten why.”

“I’ll leave you for now, but Mom and Dad are eventually going to find out, even if you don’t tell them. It’ll be easier on all of you if you just let them know in the morning.”

By the end of all that, I was more anxious about how Mom and Dad would react to knowing about this than I started this morning. I’ve hid injuries, illnesses, and countless other problems from whoever the adult in the room was many times, and whenever some stupid kid told on me, it always ended up worse for me than when I started. On the other hand, the affliction itself could easily get much worse if nothing is done about it. I don’t know what I’m going to do… Peter, could you help?

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker


	8. More Than a Game

Dear Peter,

After the family shared our meager breakfast (Lunch? Dinner? I don’t even know what time it is anymore), Mom pulled out the deck of cards and said that we would all play Cheat. We all celebrated and arranged our little stools so we could sit in a circle around the big crate we were using as a table. I positioned myself so that Timmy was to my right and thanked my lucky stars that I was a lefty while Mom dealt the cards. Timmy and I gave each other a look, knowing that if he was going to tell on me, it was now or never. Timmy remained silent.

The game wasn’t bad, to be honest. In fact, it was pretty enjoyable. The best parts were when someone went gung-ho with a reckless lie to clear their hand, like when I was holding two nines, and then Dad suddenly claimed he was putting down all four nines, and I burst out laughing. However, close to the end of the game, I was called out for a minor cheat, and without thinking I picked up the pile with my right hand.

“Mary Jane, what happened to you?” Mom cried, gasping and pointing.

I froze for a second, realized what I had done, and retracted my arm, but it was already too late. “Umm, it’s nothing, Mom, I’m fine! You must have been seeing things!”

Mom and Dad both glared at me. “I don’t buy that for a second, young lady. Give me your arm,” Dad commanded, his tone making it clear he’d harbor no argument.

I reluctantly extended my arm towards Dad. He examined it thoroughly, taking in the nasty purple skin, the disgustingly prominent red veins, and every other defect he could find. After what felt like ages, he released me, got up, and… and… **He picked up the axe. ******

I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’m not exactly stupid, either. I screamed and scrambled up the hatch towards the ruins outside, but the minute I opened the door, a noxious smell came in from above, indicating that escape was not an option. While I clung to the top of the ladder, I could see Dad, about to come up after me. Quickly, I evaluated the remaining options. First, I could have come down quietly and surrendered; but that would mean… well, I couldn’t take care of Timmy with only one arm. Or worse, Dad could have killed me right there. The other option was fighting back, but that would mean having to hold off two people, and losing spelled certain death. I had to decide, it was now or never. I took a deep breath and made my decision.

_Prove yourself… Prove to me you are strong enough to survive._

I dropped from the ladder, landing on Dad’s head with a thud. The blow forced him to drop the axe. I got up and stood between Dad and the axe, ready for attack. Dad grabbed me, but I used his weight against him and threw him to the floor for a second time. I anxiously looked around for Mom, expecting her to attack me. She didn’t, but Dad was ready for another attempt. He smacked my face, and I stumbled back but didn’t fall. I returned the favor with a punch to the gut, after which he tried to punch me, but I dodged just in time, and the hit grazed my shoulder. Dad rushed at me, so I slid under him and kicked upwards, going for the male weak spot. I was getting more worn out and desperate as time went on, and my attacks became more ferocious and disorganized as a result. 

Eventually, my determination to end this struggle made me able to pin Dad to the ground. Mom and Timmy rushed over in an attempt to stop me. Knowing from the start this would happen, I grabbed the axe and pointed it right at Mom. 

**_“Dolores and Ted,”_** I hissed, using their real names to show them every bit of my rage. _**“I have trusted you in the past, but if you even CONSIDER hurting Timmy or me like that again, I will snap your necks.”**_

That rant shook my parents up to the point where they avoided me for the rest of the day, meaning I could turn my attention towards Timmy. “See? It never ends well,” I said with a glare. He didn’t even respond. Probably because he knew I was right. 

I thought that whatever was going on in my arm would cripple me throughout the fight with Dad, but for some reason, I felt… _powerful._ I felt _stronger,_ Peter, and I don’t know how or why.  


Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably one of the most fun early chapters for me to write, and I hope it's just as fun for you guys to read.


	9. Help?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is barely a chapter, but I'm separating it from its predecessor and it's successor because it doesn't fit in with the events of either. If you're wondering, this is the eighth "night", when everyone else went to sleep after the events of Chapter 8.

Dear Peter,

I can’t sleep. I’ve woken up too many times thinking I saw Mom or Dad coming at me with the axe. I discarded my dignity without thought during the day for survival, but now I can’t be seen so paranoid. I got lucky, being able to take Dad down one on one. If they saw my weakness and decided to attack together, it would end terribly. I tried bringing the axe closer to me to calm down, but it did nothing to stop the flow of nightmares. I still saw my little brother and myself die many times in terrible ways by the hands of Mom and Dad, and every time I woke up, I was left with the feeling that the next one might be real. I don’t know how to stop it, but I do know that I have to remain strong, even if it’s just on the outside. But will faking it hold up? For how long? What should I do to calm myself?

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker


	10. Adventure Awaits!

Dear Peter,

I got up feeling like someone banged my head against a wall. My head spun and everything looked like it was covered in a grey veil. I tried to shake it off, remembering that I had to remain strong as I went through the day. Mom was trying to get the radio to work while Dad got the food and water rations we’d be using today. The calm static we’d grown used to over the past week or so was cut off, and the shelter was silent. It felt freaky, but I ignored it for the time being and returned to my meal. After everyone was finished, we began to hear a voice from the radio. The speaker sounded a bit boring, but we were all interested in what he had to say.

“To anyone who is still stranded in Raccoon City: Do not fear. You have not been abandoned. In time, the U.S. Military will come for you, just as we have come for many other victims of the attack. The fallout in your city should be mostly gone by now; it will be much safer to travel on the surface from here on out.” And then there was static.

“With this opportunity, we should search the surface for supplies as soon as we can.” Mom announced, sounding way too happy. 

The words hung around in my ears longer than they were spoken. I couldn't believe it. I thought that life was over. However, when the question of who would go was raised, something possessed me to say: "I'll do it." Once I realized what I'd said, it was too late to take it back, so I internally braced myself. 

"What!?" I heard Dad's voice, sounding farther away than it was. "You're already hurt, you think you're going to make it out there? I can't lose you!" 

What, was _he_ going to go? Considering yesterday, I don't know what he was trying to prove, but I'd like to see him try. I know I can't say that, though, I didn't join the Girl Scouts for two years and learn nothing. "Does it matter? You and Mom have done so much for Timmy and me. Let me pay you back." Why was I arguing this anyway? If Dad wanted to kill himself out there he could have gone right ahead.

"Maybe I could go in--" 

_"No!"_ I shouted, but then quickly realized what I was doing. "I mean, yes, you can go. But we have to go together, do you understand?" 

"Yes, Mary Jane," Timmy replied, sounding... a little cheerful.

I have a bad feeling about this, but it's too late to turn back now. Wish me luck, I guess.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about the wait. I decided this chapter wasn't satisfactory the way it was before, so I rewrote most of it to make it more believable.  
> I had the idea of Mary Jane and Timmy leaving together from the Kubz Scouts' play-throughs of Sixty Seconds. In a few of those games, Jay sent Mary Jane or Timmy out to scavenge, and then the other kid left on the same day due to starvation/thirst/illness/insanity/injury. It was pretty amusing (though sad) and made me think about what would happen if they went to search for supplies together.  
> And to any veteran Sixty Seconds players worried about how early I made the fallout disappear: I've played the game and had it happen as early as Day 7.


	11. The Great Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you've been waiting for a long time for this, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Dear Peter,  


Dad refused to let me bring the axe outside. I’m not entirely sure why, but I wasn't exactly looking for another fight. Timmy and I took a water bottle and a can of food, climbed up the hatch, and set out towards the great unknown. I looked back into the shelter for a second before closing the door.

As soon as we peeked out of our shelter, I knew something had completely shot our sleep patterns. The sun was going to set in a few hours. Wherever we go, we’ll likely have to stay there for at least the night, because there’s no use scavenging after dark without a flashlight, which we had conveniently left home. First, we checked the remains of our ruined house for anything we could use. I don’t care what Dad says, I need some kind of weapon. Our kitchen was completely ruined, but beneath some broken walls I found a pair of serrated knives. Perfect, it was exactly what I was looking for! The knives felt comfortable in my hands, like a chef’s old frying pan or a painter’s brush.

“Hey, look!” Timmy called, holding out two figurines. One of them depicted a green-haired woman with a long white dress, a staff and shield, and a strange winged circle behind her head. The other depicts a classic-looking angel, but his hair, wings, and tunic are black. I recognized those toys and started laughing. This was like watching the clocks move backwards. We were going back to the old days, one phase at a time. Timmy and I laughed and laughed and laughed at the thought of that. Once we had calmed ourselves down, I handed Timmy one of the knives, and we got to business.

If there’s one thing I know about my little brother, it’s that he’s the undisputed king of scavenger hunts. I would technically get more than him because I could carry more weight, but whenever we’d have to go looking for stuff, Timmy would always find the best things; be they the $10 bills in Easter eggs, the perfect places to hide from an ambush, the really rare figurines he was holding, or a diamond ring that someone misplaced (though he had to give that one back). When we worked together, we’d always get a good haul, no matter what. So when Timmy asked that I take him to my high school to check for supplies there, I couldn’t say no. In our old life, this place would have been forbidden to us, guarded by countless adults with weapons I’d never seen. Now that the world has gone to pieces, everywhere is free range. When we made it, it looked about like I expected: no one will be taking any classes here until long after the war, but it has enough of its structure to be worth a shot.

When we entered the building, I went straight for the nurse’s office. Second floor, take a right, round the corner, stop at Room 237. I knew I’d need this room, so I memorized its number a long time ago. I burst into the room and turned it upside down. There had to be a first-aid kit in here somewhere. There simply had to be. But where could it be? I refused to consider the idea that someone had taken it first. Fortunately, I soon triumphantly pulled it out of a locker that someone left the key in but didn’t fully open. It was a beauty to behold, jam packed with bandages and medicine of many kinds. I felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders when I saw it. Then another one was put back on when I heard a muffled scream from behind me. I rushed to the source, and was horrified to see Timmy being held at knife-point (with the knife I gave him!) by a strange man.

The assailant seemed to notice the panic in my eyes, and demanded: “Give me that medkit, creature, or your little boy gets it.”

OK, OK, calm down, Mary Jane. You’ve been on all three sides of this before. This is easy. All you need to do is not panic. Concealing my own knife, I slowly and carefully walked towards the man, holding out the medkit. As if suspecting a trap, he took the first-aid kit reluctantly, then shoved Timmy towards me. As soon as my little brother was out of harm’s way, I stabbed the attacker in the chest, killing him before he could even react. I wiped the blood off my knife with my dress, satisfied with my clean execution. That piece of trash deserved it.

“Did he hurt you, Timmy!?” I asked, the spike of adrenaline still running through my veins.

Timmy looked like he had seen a ghost, but he replied with: “No, I’m OK. What about you?”

“Who cares!?”

“I do!”

“You’re more important. Now… where should we go next? I don’t want that guy’s friends coming after us.”

“I found a place that looks like a storage room.”

Making sure to stick together this time, Timmy and I headed for the storage room. I thought about the way the assailant had referred to me as “creature”. It may have just been a generic insult, but I have been… changing. Am I that unrecognizable now? I shook the thoughts from my head as we made it to the storage room. As soon as I opened the double doors, I found nothing but boxes, completely filled with books. There was so much paper here, we could start a bonfire and still have plenty of things to read. It would be impossible to check every single book for useful information, but it’d be safe to assume that nearly all of the items in a single box will be the same thing, and academic textbooks would be pointless to take back. This narrowed down the selection rather quickly, and we ended up searching through a box full of Scout guidebooks. To my surprise, there were both Boy Scout guides and Girl Scout guides in the same box. I was about to dismiss them, but I thought that if the different Scout groups were separated, they had to have different traits. There wasn’t much time to go through each book and prove this, so I grabbed one of the Boy Scout guides and left. I’ll compare it to my own later.

Once we left the storage room, a glance out a broken window revealed that there wasn’t much use searching the rooms anymore. The sun was just peeking out over the horizon, so in less than five minutes, this place would be pitch black. With the last bit of light, I led Timmy to the teachers’ lounge where we’d rest for the night, shared half of the food and water we brought with him, and took inventory. Right now, we’ve gathered:  


* 2 kitchen knives
  

* 2 figurines
  

* 1 first-aid kit
  

* 1 Boy Scout guidebook

Plus the half-can of soup and half-bottle of water we brought with us. I got what I was looking for here, but honestly we still didn’t get much. Of course, we didn’t check the whole school, but we need to step up our game tomorrow, or else we’ll end up not having enough supplies in our hour of need.

Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker

P.S: I’m too afraid to sleep. No, not because I fear for my own safety, but because of the man in the nurse’s office. I can’t let someone take Timmy away again because I was too busy sleeping to do anything. No way. I’ll stay up all night for a hundred thousand nights if I have to! I’m not letting anyone split me and my little brother up!


	12. Second Wind

Dear Peter,  


I woke up in the teachers’ lounge without a thing out of place, but that’s odd, I don’t remember falling asleep. I guess my body’s needs overpowered my paranoia, then? I’ll let it go for now, since Timmy’s not hurt or missing, and all of our supplies are intact. When we first entered the room, it was pitch black, so I didn’t have much chance to explore. Now that’s it’s morning, we can check the place out and grab some supplies.  


The first thing we found in the room was a coffee pot that was about half full. I can’t stand coffee, but I know Mom and Dad love the stuff, so I transferred it to some empty water bottles I found laying around the room and took it with me. Next, I found a lighter, like the ones Dad and his friends used to light their cigars. Besides that, I couldn’t find anything of use in the room. I shouldn’t have expected more, I guess; this room was made to relax in. Once we finished with the teachers’ lounge, Timmy and I went for the cafeteria in the basement. Whenever we eat nowadays, we have to have so little, so maybe there’s some food in there?  


While we were going down the stairs, I noticed some guy who looked like he was in his early 20s, following us and eyeing the Boy Scout guidebook in Timmy’s hand. I turned back and stared the guy dead in the eyes, but he seemed to be ignoring me. Or he was just too busy trying to steal the damned book to get the hint. “Hey you!” I shouted, pointing my knife at him. “Who are you and what do you want!? You’ve been stalking us for the past ten minutes now.”  


That got his attention. He jumped back in surprise, then asked: “Are you even human!?”  


“Answer the question,” I growled, not willing to play this guy’s games.  


“I’m Robin,” he replied. “And I’m looking for that book the boy’s got.  


“You serious?” I highly doubted he was really named “Robin.” That’s a Batman character, not a real name.  


“Yes, I’m serious,” Robin huffed. “That book is the most valuable thing in the wastes, I really need it if I’m going to survive!”  


“You don’t need to steal ours, you know. There’s dozens of books just like it in the storage room.”  


“I checked there already, you disgusting animal! That one’s the Cub Scout Book! I need that one! Give it to me!”  


I’d had enough of this. “You will leave us alone and take one of the books in the storage room, or I will drag you down into the cafeteria and cut your heart out with one of those cheap plastic sporks,” I threatened, making an effort to sound calm. I guess it worked, because Robin ran up the stairs and out of sight. Sighing in relief, I rushed to join Timmy down in the first floor.  


“I heard you yelling at someone, what happened back there?” Timmy asked concernedly.  


“Nothing important, just some guy tried to steal the Boy Scout guidebook.”  


Before we entered the cafeteria, I took a quick stop in the janitor’s closet, since it was along the way and it wasn’t a very big room. Inside I found a bucket and a padlock with the key inside. I didn’t know what the bucket would be used for after we get home, but for the time being it could be used to carry some of the stuff we gathered.  


I expected the cafeteria to be one of the better-preserved rooms in the school, since it was underground, but to my surprise it was a complete wreck. One of the classrooms from the first floor must have collapsed, because there was a pile of chairs and tables right in front of the place where students went to get their food, and the originals from the cafeteria had turned to a mess of wood and metal. Still, I was determined to get something from here. We had to get more food, it was now or never. I called Timmy over to the pile blocking our way, and together we pulled out just enough of them to get inside. I pulled one of the tables behind us to close it up from the inside.  


In the front of the room, where food is usually served for kids, there was a glass baking pan that was completely full of oil. I looked at the oil, then the lighter, then the bucket. I’ve never tried this before, but lighting something on fire could be useful if I played my cards right. However, it seemed like a really clunky weapon in one-to-one combat. I left the oil there, for the time being.  


“Mary Jane! You’ve got to see this!” Timmy called, from the back door. I rushed in, knocking down a pile of empty tins with abandon as I went.  


It was amazing. The pulled turkey that was prepared for a whole school full of students were sitting right here, ready to be heated up and served. I looked back, thinking of the oil in the front room, but I didn’t want to use it all up, so I gave Timmy the first-aid kit, poured the oil in the bucket, lit up the burner, and heated up the food. When it was done, Timmy and I stuffed ourselves like it was Christmas, not caring for anything but the food in front of us. We even shared the last of the soup we’d brought with us. Not knowing when you were going to eat another meal wasn’t news to us by a long shot, and we knew to make the most of what we were given. When we were totally full, we packed up whatever was left in three of those empty tins in the back.  


We were about to make our way out of the cafeteria when I heard a scratching sound. Someone was trying to get in, and I knew I’d have to be ready for a fight.  


“Timmy, stay back!” I called, just as they pulled their way through. It was Robin. I knew this wasn’t going to be good. Robin made the first move and lunged towards me. I dodged the attack and brought my knife into his shoulder. Damn, I was looking for a backstab there. I tried to pull the knife out, but it broke, leaving me with a worthless handle. I tossed it aside and frantically searched for something else to use as a weapon. I pulled out a metal table leg from the outside and brought it down on Robin’s head, rendering him unconscious.  


I was about to hit Robin again, but Timmy was watching me, looking like the very sight of me was terrifying. I had to finish this guy off, but not while my little brother was watching. I looked around me for ideas, when I saw the oil bucket behind me. I grabbed the bucket, the table leg, the lighter, and Robin’s unconscious body, carrying them all to the storage room in the second floor. I noticed I was spilling some of the oil in a trail along the floor, but I didn’t care. Peter, do you remember yesterday? I said we could start a bonfire, and still have something to read. Well, the reading material’s covered. Now, how about that bonfire? I poured the oil all around the room and on Robin, barred the doors shut with the table leg, then lit up the lighter.  


“W-what are you doing?”  


“Run.”  


I remember a year or so ago, when Timmy, Mom, Dad and I were sitting around a campfire, telling ghost stories. Dad had left to get some more marshmallows and hot dogs to roast, and in an effort to make conversation, Mom told me that she believed the fire was beautiful. I couldn’t understand how at the time, so she explained to me what she saw in the fire until Dad came back, and he started yelling at her and calling her “insane”. I didn’t know who to believe back then: Mom, who saw beauty in the wild, uncontrollable fire? Or Dad, who claimed the very thought of it was madness? Now that I’ve seen the entire high school collapse in flames, I know that Mom was right, and it was really Dad who was out of his mind. It’s beautiful.

However, it seems that Timmy would disagree with me. He’s dropped all the supplies around him and looks absolutely mortified. “How-- is this what-- why?” I had to do something to calm him down, something, anything! I tried to assure him that everything would be all right, that he didn’t need to worry, that I was here for him, but it wasn’t working! I listened for a bit to understand what he was saying, but he was overlapping so many thoughts at once that I couldn’t get a thing out of it. I couldn’t do a thing. Timmy was stuck in a shell-shocked panic and there was no way I could help him. In the end, I had to carry Timmy and everything we brought back to the shelter. It’s a good thing I’m still strong enough to carry all that weight, but it was a struggle. He’s not a baby anymore.  


Thanks for listening,  
Mary Jane Parker  


P.S: This afternoon was perfectly fine. I did what I had to do. We’re both safe, I repaid my debt, and that’s all that matters. Even if nobody else can understand that, you should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry. I had some chapters written and I forgot to post them. I’m so dumb .-.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was fun! If you liked it, let me know in the comments below. If you didn't, tell me why, without flaming. Either way, have a nice day :D


End file.
